Truth Will Out
by Evey Edge
Summary: What if Jacob, upon seeing the many bodies Reddington left outside Fake Berlin's safe house, elected instead to take Liz to his own safe house? Can he find a way to prove his loyalty to his wife? Will she believe him? AU after Jacob kidnaps Liz in 1x22. Jacob/Liz. Keen2.
1. Making God Laugh

They say that if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. Jacob was certain that if there actually was a God, he'd be in stitches right about now. He'd had so many plans in the last year that had completely gone up in smoke. His plan to become a father? Done. His plan to keep the truth from Liz? Finished. His plan to break up the task force before Berlin ordered them all executed? Kaput. And now his last Hail Mary, his admittedly half-baked scheme to take out Berlin was no longer possible. Reddington had seen to that, once again ruining everything, forcing Jacob to retreat and re-strategize. Unfortunately it was kind of hard to think with his wife glaring at him like she wanted to kill him.

He had her secured to a chair in his safe house, which probably wasn't earning him any points, but at least meant he wouldn't have to worry about her attacking him, and being forced to defend himself. Last time he'd be lucky, and he'd managed to get the upper-hand before any serious damage was done, but it haunted him how easily that fight could have turned deadly. He'd never ever deliberately try to kill Liz, but accidents sometimes happened. Guns went off. People died.

Jacob had woken up five times this past week alone, shaking with the memory of the various nightmare scenarios he was fighting to prevent. It was always the same dream, a figure emerged from the darkness and shot Liz while Jacob stood frozen, unable to move. Sometimes the trigger-man was Berlin, sometimes it was Reddington, but the most horrifying was when it was Jacob himself.

Jacob silently cursed Reddington for the millionth time. This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. He'd be so close to convincing Berlin that Liz wasn't important enough to Reddington to bother with. If the Concierge of Crime hadn't turned himself into the FBI and sucked her into the center of his world, then at this moment he and Liz would have been at home, knee deep in diapers and baby food. That bastard had wrecked everything, stolen the life Jacob had worked so hard to build.

The bodies Jacob had seen strewn on the sidewalk had announced that number 4 on the most wanted list had infiltrated the mobster's safe-house. He'd planned to bring Liz in, convince the middleman to set up the meet with their mutual boss, and then take him out. After that Jacob could have explained, given Liz proof that despite his lies, he was still her husband, and was still on her side. He could feel the cool metal of his wedding band against his chest, where he now wore it on a chain.

"So what's the plan, Tom? Going to put a bullet in my head?" Jacob winced at the bitter accusation. He knew it wasn't her fault that she believed he was capable of that. Reddington had been whispering in her ear for months and nothing he'd said or done recently contradicted the image she now had of him as the unfeeling monster who'd ruined her life.

"I told you before: I'm not here to hurt you." Yeah, Liz was definitely going to believe that, given that he'd just abducted her at gunpoint. Still what was he supposed to have done. Issuing her a polite invitation to join him would only have gotten him shot.

"You also said you were one of the good guys. I think what happened to Meera and Cooper proves that's a lie." Liz had a point. 'Good guy' was vastly overstating things. He wasn't good, not really, and he knew that. Still that didn't mean he was totally bad either. He was here, trying to protect her wasn't he?

"I didn't attack them." What happen to the members of Liz's team wasn't his fault. They had been agents, they knew what they were signing up for. He'd done what he'd had to do to maintain his cover and continue to protect Liz.

"No, you just turned over their names." The venom in Liz's voice made it perfectly clear that she held him responsible, whether or not he'd actually been the one wielding the knife. Jacob sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Why couldn't she understand that he'd had no choice? Besides he'd tried to protect the taskforce, leaving Liz breadcrumbs that if she'd followed would have dissolved the unit before Berlin had elected to take them out.

"I did everything I could to keep them out of harm's way. It's not my fault you didn't listen." He'd been so sure Liz would follow his instructions and retrieve the evidence from the safety deposit box. It hadn't been easy getting his hands on those photos, in fact he'd had to call in a favor with one of his old classmates from the Major's school.

"Excuse me?" Liz squinted at him, suspicion and confusion momentarily replacing rage on her beautiful features.

"The safety deposit box. I'm assuming you never checked it out like I told you to." Liz pressed her lips together, the anger returning in full force. Her silence told him everything he needed to know. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she followed his instruction. "You did." It was almost enough to make him smile, until he considered the full implications of what he'd learned. All the trouble he'd gone to to warn her away from Reddington had been for nothing.

"What the hell are you still doing working with him?! He killed your father Liz. You know that, right? Or did he convince you it was all just a big coincidence that his visit to the hospital corresponded with Sam's death?" He couldn't believe Liz would be that gullible, but he didn't know how else to explain the fact the Liz was still stomaching Reddington's presence. Liz remained silent, refusing to look at Jacob. Her face was stony, colder than he'd ever seen it. He'd just resigned himself to not getting an answer when she turned and fixed him with a look that sent a chill through him.

"Unlike you, Reddington doesn't lie to me." Jacob snorted in disbelief.

"I seriously doubt that." Liz clearly didn't know the truth about him, if she thought he'd really planned to kill her. Jacob could only imagine the lies Reddington had spinning to get her to believe that.

"He never tells me everything, but what he does tell me is always the truth." That certainly gave Jacob pause. Liz seemed so sure of her words, it was enough to make him wonder if there was a chance they were accurate. If they were, then he might actually have a way out of this mess he'd found himself in.

Jacob walked over to where his go bag sat up against the wall. He unzipped it and dug around until he found a pen, a pad of paper, and a cell phone. He grabbed a chair with his free hand, and carried it over to where Liz sat. He dropped into the seat, uncapped the pen and started to write.

"I'll make you a deal, Liz. I'm going to write down three questions on this piece of paper. We call Reddington. You ask him these questions and he answers. After that I'll untie you and if you want to go you can go. Deal?" He ripped the paper in three equal pieces and then looked up at his wife. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion, but it was an improvement on the previous expression.

"How do I know you'll keep up your end?" A fair question, given his less than honest track record. Still, considering her circumstances, did she really have a better offer?

"What do you have to lose?" Jacob did his best impression of disinterested calm, but inside his mind was reeling. If she agreed to this and it actually worked he might actually get a chance to explain himself the way he'd wanted to since the night she'd learned the truth. He wasn't an idiot, he knew she wouldn't forgive him, but at least she'd know that what they'd had together hadn't all been a lie. He'd seen how much believing that had hurt her. If he could take some of that pain away, then this would be worth it, no matter how it turned out for him.

"Fine." Liz's sharp reply pulled Jacob out of his thoughts. He allowed himself a brief smile before picking up the phone and pulling up the contact list. Not long after Liz had started working for the task force he'd swiped her phone and programmed the numbers of her team into his burner. The one number that had stood out was Nick's Pizza, which he had never heard of. He assumed that was alias Liz had picked for Reddington. He'd made a habit of checking on the information on a regular basis, as the number changed every two week like clockwork. According to the schedule the number he had should still be good. The number rang twice before he heard the master criminal pick up.

"Hello Reddington." There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the line before Reddington spoke in softly dangerous tones.

"Where's Elizabeth?" The mobster must have talked if Reddington knew he'd been sent after Liz.

"She's right here, she's fine. I'm putting you on speaker." Jacob hit the button and waited for Concierge of Crime to speak. He had to admit he was curious. He'd heard a one-sided conversation between Liz and Reddington before, but it hadn't been enough to give him a good sense of their relationship.

"Lizzie, are you alright?" Jacob's blinked, somewhat surprised Liz allowed Reddington to use the nickname that only Sam, as her father, and he, as her husband had been permitted. The concern in his voice was also interesting. Jacob would go so far as to say it seemed genuine.

"I'm fine. I need to ask you some questions. Tom says if you answer, he'll let me go." Silence from the other end of the line and then the voice that had held warm concern of Liz became cold and suspicious.

"What are you up to Tom?" The tone suggested that Reddington had a pretty good inkling where this was headed and he did not like it.

"You're a sharp guy, Reddington. I'm sure you've worked it out by now. Alright Liz, first question." Jacob slowly raised the piece of paper up so Liz could see it. He waited while she read the words, watching the expression on her face become more and more incredulous.

"I don't understand. Why-" Jacob cut her off, firmly, but gently.

"Just ask him." Liz swallowed, and then slowly recited the words on the paper.

"Who hired Tom to enter my life?" Liz's stared at the phone, as though she could see the man on the other end. There was silence and then Reddington voice broke through, detached and businesslike.

"Tom, I'd like a private conversation." Whether he meant with Jacob, or with Liz, Jacob didn't care. He wasn't going to be dissuaded, and Reddington wasn't going to be allowed to weave his web of lies without Jacob there to contradict him.

"And I'd like to be home right, stretched out on the couch with my wife. I guess we don't always get what we want. Answer her." Reddington had gone through considerable time and expense to expose Jacob's lies. Jacob was only too willing to return the favor.

"I did." Whatever thrill of satisfaction Jacob had anticipated at exposing Reddington died in his chest when he saw the fresh look of pain and betrayal in Liz's eyes. Looking at her hurt, Jacob could barely register Reddington's hurried attempts at justification. He hit the mute button.

"Liz? Are you okay?" Liz looked up at him sharply, opened her mouth, and then closed it, as though thinking better of what she had planned to say. When she opened her mouth again her voice was measured, controlled.

"Let's get this over with." Jacob nodded, unmuted the phone and held up the next question.

"What was his assignment?" Reddington stopped mid-sentence at Liz's words. Undoubtedly this had been one of the things he had already gone over while Liz had been collecting herself.

"To protect you from a distance, as a friend of friend." Once again Liz looked up at him in confusion, no doubt trying to understand why he was putting her through this. Jacob held up his last question in response.

"Why was he fired?" Jacob himself was interested in hearing the rationale behind this one. Reddington only discovered Jacob's intimacy with Liz because of Berlin's attempt on her life. Jacob had saved her, which should have all the proof Reddington needed that he was performing his primary function. He'd hoped to convince Reddington that he could protect her better as her boyfriend then he could as an acquaintance. He hadn't been successful.

"Because he betrayed my trust. He violated the terms of his contract." Oh no, Reddington wasn't weaseling out of this one. He was going to admit to Liz that he had known this entire time how Jacob felt about her, and had chosen not to share.

"How?" Would Reddington answer, even though it was technically he and not Liz who had asked?

"You became...emotionally and physically involved." Jacob had to hand it to Liz. She had been right. Reddington hadn't lied, although Jacob was sure he'd wanted to.

"Thank you Reddington, that's all we need for now." Jacob hung up, and chance a look at Liz. She seemed to be looking at everywhere, but him. There was such turmoil on her features that for once he had no idea what she was thinking.

Would it be enough? Would she stay? It didn't matter one way or the other. He had to keep his word. He pulled a switchblade out of his pocket and moved behind Liz's chair. He had her freed in less than ten second, then waited, seeing what she'd do. When after a minute it became clear he had no intention of leaving her chair, he returned to his.

"Why did you do that?" She still wasn't looking at him, instead chosen to focus her gaze on her wrists, rubbing them where the zip ties had left red impressions.

"We had a deal. I just honored it." Liz shook her head and finally looked up at him.

"No, I meant why did you make him tell me those things?" There were so many ways to answer that question. Because he loved her. Because she deserved the truth. Because he couldn't live another day with her thinking of their life together as a total fraud. He settled on the most practical answer, the one she be most able accept.

"Because I need you to believe me when I tell you, that despite appearances, despite what I said to you in the dining room...I am on your side. I have always been on your side. I want to help you stop Berlin."


	2. Less Like A Puppet

She had to be out of her mind. Tom had left her alone, sitting at the table in the Castle Cafe, while he went to grab them some food props. Liz knew if she ran, he wouldn't try to stop her. He'd made it very clear that if she wanted to leave, she could. The level of trust he was showing in her was absurd. If she wanted, she could borrow a cell phone and have an SWAT team here in ten minutes. That was what she should do, what she was obligated as an officer of the law to do, and yet she didn't move. Suddenly a mug and a muffin were placed on the table in front of her.

"Tea, 2% and a blueberry muffin." Tom plopped down across from her, his own mug in hand and sipped his coffee as she gave him a withering glare. His body language was completely relaxed, as though they were just a young couple, playing hooky in the middle of the day, visiting the Smithsonian. The easy smile that she'd always loved played upon his lips, and reminded her far too much of the man she'd married. She wanted to punch him in the face and keep hitting him until he was no longer recognizable as the man she'd sworn to love all the days of her life.

"I'm not hungry." She hated how petulant she sounded, but she couldn't help it. Surrounded by all these happy, carefree families, normal people with normal lives, she felt like screaming at the top of her lungs. She couldn't pretend every was fine the way that Tom clearly could. Sullen was the best compromise she could make.

"Don't tell me you hate muffins too. I'm not sure I could handle the shock." He smiled and tilted his head, inviting her to share in the joke. She knew he was referring to time she'd held him hostage and she'd told him she hated pancakes as an example of honesty. That was pretty much the biggest secret she'd kept from him over the course of their marriage, where as he had lied about EVERYTHING. What the hell kind of a person made a joke about something like that?!

"That's not funny." Tom sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He'd always done that when he was feeling frustrated. What that gesture a real thing? A habit, not just a performance?

"Just trying to lighten the mood. Reddington won't be here for another few minutes, and you sitting there like that might draw unwanted attention. Any way, YOU were the one who broke MY thumb, remember?" Was he kidding? Did he really wanted to compare the injury she caused him to the agony he'd caused her?

"YOU were the one who broke MY heart. I win." A shadow fell over Tom's face, and Liz had to remind herself not to be fooled by it. This man was a liar, an actor. Nothing he did or said could be trusted or taken at face value.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I know I was an asshole. I was trying to make you angry. I thought it would make things easier." He sounded so genuinely remorseful that Liz found herself wanting to believe him. He'd betrayed Reddington by becoming "emotionally involved" with her. What did that even mean? How much of what she'd believed he felt for her was real?

"Easier for who?" Liz had no concept of who this man was or how he thought. Every time she'd believed she's known over the past year, she'd been proven wrong.

"For both of us. You were in pain and I had no way to fix it. If I had tried to tell you the truth you wouldn't have believed me. My only choice was escape. In an interrogation situation the best way to make your captor make a mistake is to make them angry." Liz tried to digest that. She'd stood before him, destroyed, begging him to say something, anything to contradict her accusations. He claimed that if he had, she wouldn't have believed him. Was he right? Probably. But he hadn't just said nothing, he'd twisted the knife in an attempt to steer her reaction in the direction he'd wanted. The worse part was, it had worked. He'd successfully played her, just as he had so many times before.

"So you were manipulating me. Again. Just like when you were making me feel guilty about my job. Or accusing you after I found your go-box. Or not adopting the baby-" To her surprise Tom cut her off mid-rant with a dark look of his own.

"Don't." It wasn't even a full sentence, and yet it contained so much...what? Anger? Guilt? Pain?

"Don't what?" Had she found an honest to God pressure point?

"Don't bring up the adoption. Not here. Not now." The facade of the easygoing guy was gone, replaced with the piercing stare of a stranger. Was this the real Tom? Or yet another mask designed to elicit a specific response?

"Why not?" Before Tom could answer, a fedora dropped down onto the table and Reddington slid into the seat next to her.

"I do hope I'm interrupting." Reddington's gaze was locked on Tom in undisguised animosity. Tom immediately resumed his relaxed pose and favored Reddington with a disingenuous grin.

"Happy to disappoint. We were just closing a subject." Reddington returned the smile with a predatory one of his own. It reminded Liz of two wolves baring their teeth at each other to establish dominance. This was the first time Liz had ever connected Tom with such an aggressive image. It was stupid, because she knew first hand he was more than capable of violence, but somehow her mind couldn't shake the impression of the gentle, kind man whose touch had brought such a feeling of comfort and safety.

"Interesting place for you to arrange a meeting Tom. I hope you don't think those laughable security measures at the entrance are enough to keep you safe from me." Tom hadn't wanted to involve Reddington at all, but Liz had insisted. She told him that Reddington had resources they could use, and that if they didn't involve him directly he'd find them and interfere anyway. Meeting at the Smithsonian had been Tom's idea as a crowded public place where both parties could be reasonably assured the other wouldn't attempt to kill them.

"Your secrets are out Reddington. Killing me would be short-sighted. I can deliver you Berlin." Reddington raised an eyebrow in response, his expression decidedly unimpressed.

"Seems your information is outdated. I've already disposed of the Russian." Liz looked to Tom, who seemed unphased by this announcement.

"If you are talking about the mobster in the safe house you found, then it's your information that's bad, not mine. That wasn't Berlin." This was quickly becoming more and more like a tennis match with Liz as its only spectator. She wondered if they would even notice if she got up and walked away.

"Assuming I believed you, what would you be offering?" Liz frowned. That was too easy. Reddington must believe Tom or else he wouldn't be hearing him out and yet he didn't seem remotely surprised by his news. Was Reddington testing him? Liz supposed she shouldn't be surprised. The man like playing games with everyone, not just her.

"To help you kill Berlin. Or arrest him. Fielder's choice." Tom had finally broken the stare down to look at Liz. She got the distinct impression that the "arrest him" had only been thrown in there for her benefit. He was trying to cater to her delicate FBI agent sensibilities. In this case Tom needn't have bothered. Some of her friends were dead or dying and as far as she was considered a lethal outcome was more than acceptable.

"So what, you would set a meeting? Ask him to bring you in?" It felt good to actually be a participant in the conversation. It made her feel a little less like a puppet whose strings had been yanked to and fro by the men sitting beside and across from her.

"He doesn't trust me enough to meet me in person. I was going to use the mobster, before someone made that impossible. That's why I kidnapped you. I was ordered to bring you to him, and once that he saw that I had you, he would have set up the exchange and then I would have taken care of him." Liz blinked, unsure how to react to that. Was she supposed to tell him that, now that she understood, it was okay that he'd broken into her car and taken her hostage? Was that how things worked in his mind? The ends justified the means?

"I'm assuming you have a plan, Tom." Reddington's dry interruption saved her from coming up with a response.

"Berlin's arms dealer. He can set a meet." That made sense. A man like Berlin would need a steady supply of weapons and he'd need to be contacted when the goods he wanted were for sale.

"What's his name?" Tom smiled thinly and shook his head.

"I'm not telling you. I give you the information and the second I walk out of this museum I get a bullet in my head." Was Tom right? Had Reddington planned to use this meeting to set Tom up?

"If you aren't proposing we work together, why did you summon me here?" Not exactly a denial. The thought of Reddington killing Tom brought a horrible clenching sensation to her gut. Liz hated Tom, and the things she wanted to do to him for all the pain he'd caused her were...a bit extreme. Yet there was one thing she knew with every ounce of her being. She did not want him to die.

"I need you to reassure the Task Force that I'm radio silent because I'm working a lead with you." Tom had thrown her phone out the window not too long after he'd taken her hostage, so she hadn't been able to check in with Ressler or Aram. She didn't wanted them to worry about her, or worse, come looking for her.

"So I'm supposed to divert the FBI while entrusting Elizabeth's safety to you? I think not." Liz felt a stab of irritation at the idea that she was some kind of delicate princess that needed protecting. She could take care of herself.

"You were confident enough in my skills when you hired me the first time." Tom's reminder that it had been Reddington's interference that had ultimately led them all here relit the flame anger that she had been trying so hard to stifle.

"And have since learned my lesson." The sight of them both sitting there, staring each other down as though she didn't exist was the last straw.

"Hey! If the two of you could stop talking about me like I'm not here, I'd appreciate it. Now, if anyone has the right to be angry right now, it's me, not the two of you. Tom, Red whatever issues the two of you have with each other are going have to wait. Meera is dead, and Cooper might me to along with God knows how many others. Here's how this is going go: Tom and I will squeeze the arms dealer, get him to set the meet. When we have the information, Red, we will forward it to you and you and your people take him out. Agreed?" They both had the grace to look chastened as they nodded their reluctant assent.

"You don't want to arrest him?" Tom sounded, not surprised exactly, but speculative, as though she were a puzzle he was trying to work out.

"This son of a bitch has already killed at least one of my colleagues. The FBI doesn't need to lose any more agents to this war." Berlin was Red's enemy, Tom had chosen, for whatever the reason, to be a soldier in this war, and she was...what a pawn? Drawn into the fray without even understanding why. Still she was inextricably involved, she acknowledged that now. This was their fight and they would finish this before any more innocents were added to the body count.


	3. What Do You Want?

Liz woke up for the fourth-or was it fifth time that night. She checked her watch and saw it was 4:30. The meeting with Volkov wasn't for another three hours. She rolled over on the cot Tom had given her last night, when he'd grab some blankets for himself and left her to sleep in what Liz could only assume had been an office.

Liz sighed and sat up, resigned to the fact that sleep wasn't in her near future. She should be grateful she'd managed to get any at all. Things had been tense when she and Tom had left the museum. He'd kept trying to make small talk which she'd manage to shut down by being terse. Actually 'hostile' may have been the better descriptor. She couldn't help it. Every time he did or said something that approached nice, she immediately suspected an ulterior motive. Liz couldn't imagine what it could be, but without any real insight into the man, how could she possibly understand what he wanted from her?

It suddenly struck Liz that in less than four hours the man she knew as Tom Keen would be gone from her life. He would vanish like a puff of smoke and she'd never have any answers to the many questions that had haunted her for weeks. No, she wasn't going to let that happen. If she wanted answers, she'd find them for herself, right now.

Liz put her feet on the cool floor of the warehouse and eased herself off the cot making as little noise as possible. She slowly opened the door and scanned the hall for any sign of Tom. When she was confident the coast was clear she crept down corridor toward the area she'd been held yesterday. The duffel bag where he'd kept his phone was still up against the wall. If she wanted an unfettered look into the man who'd pretended to be her husband, that seemed a good place to start.

After scanning the room one more time for Tom, she unzipped the bag and looked inside. Clothes. Deodorant. Gun. Fake passport declaring Tom to be a British subject named Peter Crawford. Liz dug deeper into the bag, until her hands closed on a wallet. She flipped it open and found more fake IDs, and credit cards belonging to Mr. Crawford.

Liz's eye caught on a paper edge peeking out of the bill pocket. A photograph? She tugged it out and found herself looking at an ultrasound. It was their baby, or rather the baby they would have had, if she hadn't pulled the plug on the adoption. She closed her eyes, trying to push back the wave of sorrow that accompanied the memory. The image had disappeared from their fridge and Liz had assumed Tom had tossed it. He hadn't, he'd kept it. He'd held onto it, even after he'd left. Why? She thought back to his words at the Smithsonian. He'd said "Don't" as though talking about the adoption was something he couldn't handle.

She didn't know how long she sat there, staring at the picture, before the door to the outside swung open and Tom entered. In some remote part of her mind she noted he was holding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Tom smoked. That fact that would have ordinarily set her mind reeling, paled in comparison to the earth shaking discovery of the ultrasound.

"Why do you have this?" She held up the image in case there was any doubt in his mind what she meant. Tom swallowed hard and Liz heard the soft crinkling of the cigarette package as he squeezed it in his hand.

"Because I wanted to remember." He voice was soft, so soft that by the time it reached Liz's ears she wasn't even sure that she heard it.

"Remember what?" Liz hated the way her own voice sounded in her ears: breaking and weak. Tom was silent, staring at her, and suddenly in his eyes she saw the same look he'd given her when she'd told him she couldn't go through with the adoption. She felt like she was looking into the eyes of a child who'd just had every one of his dreams ripped away from him.

"Remember how close I was to having a family." Liz's heart felt like it was being squeezed in her chest. He sounded so lost, so grieved, that every fiber of her being wanted to run to him and hold him in her arms. Only the sight of the cigarettes in his hand held her at bay. Tom Keen was her husband. Tom Keen didn't smoke. This man was not Tom Keen. The thought alone saved her from own weakness, replacing guilt with resentful rage. Who was he to stand there and make her feel guilty for an action she'd only taken because somehow she had sensed his lies?

"Why are doing this to me?! Are you trying to hurt some more, is that it?!" The truth was motives didn't matter to her in that moment. She didn't care about his so-called "emotional involvement" or whether or not he'd truly wanted that child. She'd had a life and husband and a plan for a family and now that was gone. He'd taken that from her and she didn't care why.

As Tom had listened to her accusation she'd watched his face grow darker and darker. She reveled in it. Somewhere in the back of her mind it occurred to her that she probably should be afraid. This was a dangerous man, a killer, and she was alone and unarmed with no back-up on the way. Still as he took slow measured steps toward her, all she felt was the thrill of adrenaline, the welcome rush of rage that banished all thoughts of sadness and loss. Liz stood to meet him, getting as close to eye to eye with the her impostor of a husband as her 5' 7'' height would allow her.

"You said you wanted the truth, so I gave to you. If you want me to lie, I'll lie, but you have to tell me what you want. What do you want, Liz?!" His voice, which he'd kept so level got away from him at the end, betraying a little anger of his own. What did she want? She wanted to fall asleep and wake up back in their townhouse. She wanted everything that had happened to have been a nightmare. She wanted her life back with her dog and her husband and no go-box under the floor or Reddington watching from the shadows. She wanted to go HOME, but she couldn't, she never could, because of this man, who didn't even have the decently be the one-dimensional villain she'd built up in her mind. No, he had to come in here with his "emotional involvement" and make her already messed-up life that much more confusing. In a burst of anger Liz shoved Tom so hard and so suddenly that he stumbled a half-step backward.

"I want to HATE you! I want to HURT you! I want to HIT you until you feel every single bit of pain that you have put me through!" She wanted vengeance, so badly that her blood was singing with it. Breathing heavily she watched Tom's expression go from angry to thoughtful.

"Okay." Tom tossed his cigarettes and lighter onto the duffel bag and then peeled off his hoodie, so he was only wearing the wife-beater underneath. Around his neck there was a chain of some kind, tucked beneath his shirt. Dog tags maybe? "You want to hit me? Hit me." Liz's eyes moved from his torso to his face. Did he seriously expect her to walk over and punch him on the nose?

"Don't tempt me." As appealing as the prospect of breaking his face was, she wasn't just going to start wailing on him, no matter how much he deserved it. It was too dangerous for both of them. Liz knew she had...anger issues. She'd been warned about them constantly by the psychiatrist she'd been forced to see as a teenager. Liz had them beat, for the most part, though they had flared up a few times during the past year, resulting in things like Tom's broken thumb and Red's punctured carotid artery. She worked so hard to keep her feelings locked down, and she had no idea what she was capable of if she let the floodgates open.

"Come on. I'm a big boy I can take it." Tom sounded so damn sure he could handle whatever she dished out that she almost acceded to his wish, but she resisted. Tom didn't know her as well as he thought he did. She'd hid that part of herself from him, that angry teen who picked pockets, got into fights, and raged against the world without ever understanding why. He had no idea how deep that well of hers went, especially now with everything that had happened between them.

"You're out of your mind." Liz tried to walk past him, back toward her cot, but he grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip. She tried to yank it free, but he held firm.

"Let. Me. Go." Blood was pounding in her ears. Ever since he'd abducted her Tom hadn't made more than incidental contact with her. Her personal space, which he had up to this point avoided, was now invaded by him.

"Make me." Liz had reached her tipping point. She closed her fist struck him squarely on the nose, which broke with a satisfying crack. Tom released her arm and stepped back. He shook his head, blinking the tears out of his eyes, and raised his fists. "That's more like it." He waved her forward and this time she didn't hesitate. All the pain and uncertainty fell away as she devoted her entire being to inflicting as much damage as possible on her opponent. In her mind he became the personification of every blow she'd suffered, every heartbreak. She had no idea how longer the fight went on. Time didn't seem to matter.

Eventually she found herself straddling Tom, pinning him to the floor. She grabbed a handful of his shirt, getting ready to hit him again, when her finger caught on something metal. It was the chain she'd seen early. She tugged and the rest of the necklace came out from beneath his shirt. On the end wasn't dog tags, like she'd suspected, but a ring. A wedding band. Her heart skipped a beat. She lifted it closer, reading the inscription she knew would be there. Forever and always, Liz.

Liz looked into the blue eyes of the man she'd been treating as her personal punching bag. There was pain there, but she suspected not from his injuries, injuries Liz suddenly realised he could probably have avoided if he'd wanted to.

All the time she'd been fighting him, he hadn't thrown one punch, or kick. He'd hadn't even really defended himself except from a few potentially crippling blows. She said she'd wanted to hit him, and so he'd given what she wanted, despite the harm it caused him. The reason he'd done it? The answer was staring her right in the face, the evidence in the palm of her hand. It was the truth she'd been dodging since Tom had forced Red's confession. He loved her. Whoever this man was, whatever lies he'd told her, he loved her. She would have to deal with that.

Liz's vision blurred with tears that had begun spilling from her eyes. She started to stand, but Tom caught her hand and wordlessly pulled back down into his lap. Unable at the moment to resist, Liz leaned her into his chest and wept. She could feel his hand on the back of her hair, stroking her as he'd done so many times before, whispering a mantra of "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

These tears felt different than the others she'd shed lately. When she finished crying she discovered she no longer felt empty. There was sadness, yes, but also peace. Liz wondered why she felt that way. Perhaps it was that she hadn't been totally wrong about Tom. The fact that she'd been so deceived had tortured her, not just because of the heinousness of the betrayal, but because of what it said about her instincts, her judgement. Tom was her greatest failure as a profiler, but she'd only failed, because so much of what they had, had been true. That was oddly comforting.

"I was in the foster care system." Tom's words jarred Liz out of her thoughts.

"What?" Tom was sharing apparently, but she didn't know for what purpose.

"That day in the dining room you asked about the baby. I lied and I said I was doing my job, but the truth is I really...wanted that baby. I wanted to adopt because I knew what it's like to be given up, to grow up in the system, be bounced from home to home, never belonging to anyone. Living with people who care more about getting their monthly check then whether you lived or died. I thought maybe we could stop that from happening to somebody else. I had this idea that I could keep them from...turning into me. It was stupid. I should have known Reddington was never going to allow it." Interesting that he thought that Reddington was the main reason the adoption had not been a good idea.

"What do mean, 'Reddington wouldn't allow it'?" Tom shrugged and then winced, probably at a bruise she'd recently given him.

"I'm pretty sure that's why he turned himself in when he did. He'd sent warnings before and they hadn't worked so I guess this was him stepping up his game." Liz frowned, considering his words. She'd worked out that many of the cases they'd worked connected back to the war with Berlin, but Red's war with Berlin had been going for years. According to what Reddington had told her, Berlin had known about her for at least as long as she and Tom had been married.

Everyone at the Bureau, herself included, had assumed Reddington had timed his walk-in to coincide with her first day as a field agent, but that hadn't been the only major event in her life that day. The last adoption meeting had been scheduled, a meeting she'd been forced to miss because of Reddington. That, in it of itself, could have had an adverse effect on their chances to get a child. Tom could very well be right, though something else was bothering her about what he had said.

"What do you mean 'warnings'?" Had Red been in contact with Tom without her knowing it?

"Remember when my car hit a deer on the turnpike? Well that wasn't ACTUALLY a deer I hit. Zamani wasn't the first guy he sent after me, just the first to catch me off guard." Okay, so she hadn't been missing covert phone calls, just attempts on her husband's life apparently. That was good to know.

It was interesting to hear Tom open up about this, particularly when he'd been so tight lipped when she questioned him before. Maybe he was feeling the time slipping away from them, just as she was. Maybe she wasn't the only one who needed some closure. She thought of the ultrasound Tom was still carrying around in his wallet. He'd given her a gift, telling her the truth when he didn't have to. Protocol be damned, she was going to return the favor.

"Before I...called of the adoption, Reddington put me on a case. It was an adoption agency and the guy who ran it was a real sick bastard who was kidnapping women, putting them in comas, and impregnating them with his sperm." Liz shuddered at the memory. Just thinking about him made her want to shower.

"That is some sick shit." Liz nodded in hearty agreement, then swallowed, preparing herself to tell the most difficult part of the story.

"The thing is, this guy, he was a foster kid who'd been adopted by this couple. Their marriage was troubled and he was more than they could handle. They sent him back and that was what started all of it. You wanted to save the baby, but I was afraid that I'd ruin his life...I couldn't live with myself if I'd done that to some innocent kid." She looked into Tom's eyes imploringly, willing him to understand that fear she'd had. He stared at her for a long few seconds before slowly leaning forward and kissing her forehead. She closed her eyes and leaned into his chest.

"Thank you for telling me. I get why you thought that it was the right choice and with how everything turned out, it was probably for the best, but...you wouldn't have ruined his life. No matter the circumstances, you would have been an amazing mom. I know you still will be...some day." Liz was glad her eyes were closed, because she didn't think she could take looking at him just then. What he'd said was perfect. She shouldn't be surprised, given he'd always known exactly what to say to make her feel like the most cherished woman in the entire world. At that moment she felt safe and loved in a way she hadn't for far too long. There was a part of her that just wanted to stay in his arms forever, forget all that had come before. The dream was so sweet and it seemed so real. The larger part her, however, was reminding her that reality was waiting. She sighed and opened her eyes.

"We should probably get cleaned up. The meeting with Volkov is in," Liz checked her watch, "two hours."

"Yeah...and arms dealers are known to be sticklers for punctuality." After a moment's hesitation Tom released her from his embrace and allowed her to stand. After she was up he followed suit, a little morely stiffly than she had. She started walking back toward the office, then stopped and turned to look at the man who was, technically, still her husband.

"Tom? Thanks for..." What? Letting her kick the crap out of him? Holding her when she cried? Telling her the truth? Maybe just for loving her, despite all odds? She let her voice trail off, allowing him to fill the rather lengthy blank for himself. Tom smiled, one of his old familiar smiles, and to Liz's surprise, it didn't hurt her to see it.

"Don't mention it."

 **Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing so far! I love the feedback! Takada Saiko and Karen: I hope you enjoyed the adoption stuff! Ever since we found out Jacob was carrying that ultrasound around in his wallet I've wanted an open and honest discussion between them about what happened. I think things went as wrong as they did in 2A with Jacob and Liz because they seem incapable of talking to each other about their issues. I wanted to give them the opportunity to that, if only in my head.**

 **Kou Shun'u I completely agree with you about Liz's internal tension. Liz to me is the kind of person who pushes her emotion down until she can't anymore and she does something like stab someone with a pen, break a thumb, throw someone on a boat and interrogate them for four months, etc. Liz obviously had a lot of rage at Tom/Jacob and I felt there was no way of getting past that with him taking a bit of punishment, hence this chapter. Any way I hope everyone enjoyed!**

 **Next up: The meeting with Volkov doesn't exactly go as planned, do to a surprise guest.**


	4. Party Crasher

What was it about Russians that the more pain they were in, the more determined they became not to cooperate? Jacob had been working over Volkov for ten minutes, and he doubted he was any closer to get the man to do what he asked than he was at the beginning. Jacob hauled the arms dealer to his feet and used one arm to pin him to the hood of Volkov's white convertible. With his free hand, he grasped the man's index finger.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right just then. I think you were going to tell me how you were going to help us out."

"Piss off." Jacob snapped the digit he held and Volkov cried out in pain before let loose a string of Russian curses.

"Let him go." Jacob glanced over at Liz, who'd be leaning against the alley wall, watching the whole affair with impressive indifference. Even now, her tone wasn't outraged, just bored, as though she frequently witnessed torture sessions. Then again, maybe she did, she did after all work with Raymond Reddington. What was she after here? A good cop, bad cop routine?

"But Volkov and I were having such a nice chat." Liz rolled her eyes, and strolled over to the car, her gaze never leaving the arms dealer.

"Volkov, Tom will not stopping hurting you until you agree to help us. He will break every bone in your body. Wouldn't you rather avoid that unpleasantness and just do as we ask?" He spit on her shoes. Liz's response was to smile pleasantly, reach over and snap his middle finger. Clearly there were no good cops in the scenario Liz had in mind.

"I didn't think so. The trouble is, we're not scary enough." Jacob didn't know about that. Liz looked pretty damn scary from where he stood. That switch inside Liz had been flipped and the darker version of herself was emerging. He'd caught glimpses of it in the past, the sharp edge buried just beneath the surface. Liz had kept it carefully hidden from what she'd believed to be her innocent husband, but Jacob had always known. Recent events had brought that side of her to the forefront. Jacob didn't really know how he felt about that. On the one hand he was sorry to see it, because she deserved the unburdened conscience of the innocent. On the other hand this harder version of the woman he loved stood a better chance of surviving the world Reddington had dragged her into. Perhaps it was better not to dwell on the question, particularly when he needed to focus on the job at hand.

"Give me a few more minutes. I can be plenty scary." Jacob sincerely hoped Liz had a plan, because he'd rather not have to trot out the advanced interrogation skills he'd learned at Bud's school. He'd accepted that when this was done, when Berlin was dead, he would go, vanish from Liz's life forever. That was hard enough. Jacob definitely didn't want Liz's last images of him to be of him torturing a man.

"No doubt, but not scarier than Berlin. Right?" Jacob could feel Volkov's muscles tighten in answer to Liz's question. It was incredible the fear the man inspired. Jacob presented an immediate lethal threat, and yet Berlin's shadow somehow trumped him.

"Time to try a different approach. Volkov, look here. You see the badge? I'm FBI." Jacob wasn't sure he was following where Liz was going with this. American prisons had nothing on the Gulag, and certainly nothing on Berlin.

"What, you going to arrest me? Put me cushy American prison cell. Get me lawyer. Good. I could use the holiday." Liz's smiled widened into a grin that would make the Cheshire cat proud.

"Oh, no you misunderstand. I'm not going to arrest you. I'm going to the field office and put a bolo out on you. Maybe tip off a media outlet on the extensive search currently underway for the notorious arms dealer Volkov. When Berlin hears we are looking for you, what do you think he'll do? Do you think he'll help you hide? Maybe just trust that if you're caught you won't give him up? What do you think, Tom?" Jacob fought to maintain a malicious expression on his own face, while inside he felt like beaming. He was so damn proud of her.

"I think our friend Volkov has two options: 1) He helps us and continues business as usual or 2) He takes his chances with Berlin." He could practically hear the wheels turning in the Russian's head. Liz had him checkmated, and the arms dealer knew it.

"Fine. I help you. I need twenty-four hours." Liz nodded at Jacob, and he released Volkov from his hold.

"You have twelve. Tick Tock Volkov." The Russian grunted, jumped into his car, and drove it around the corner and down the alley. Jacob turned to Liz, and finally allowed his smile to break loose. Liz, no doubt caught up in the moment of victory, smiled back at him. She was amazing, and he'd always known that, but witnessing it first hand was...Something he'd never get the chance to do again. That thought killed any good mood that preceded it. Volkov had agreed to set the meet, Reddington would kill Berlin, and he, Jacob, have no further value to Liz or Reddington.

"What?" Liz's eyebrows knit in confusion at his sudden change in expression. Before Jacob could respond he heard what sounded like Russian cursing coming out the alley. He drew his gun and started heading to the corner, with Liz a step behind. They were ten feet from their destination when a metal can came rolled out in front of them. Jacob didn't even stop to think as he tackled Liz to shield her from the grenade. He squeezed his eyes shut and then...nothing. No explosion. It took him all of three seconds to recognised his mistake, which unfortunately was two second too long.

"Drop it." Jacob stiffened as he recognized the voice from above him. The instruction must have been for Liz, given that Jacob had dropped his weapon when he'd jumped on her. He heard the sound of metal hitting on pavement. Fantastic, now they were both unarmed. "Stand up. Both of you." Jacob slowly rolled off Liz and stood, facing one of the few people in the world he actually considered a friend. Naturally, she was pointing a gun at him. "Kick the guns over to me." They complied, and Gina scooped both weapons up and tossed them into the dumpster behind her. "Jacob. What kind of a mess have you gotten yourself into now?" Out of the corner of his eye he could see Liz shoot him a sharp look, either at hearing his real name, or at the familiarity of Gina's tone. He'd have to explain later, assuming there was a later.

"Leave Gina. This is none of your business." She shouldn't even be in the US, let alone interfering in his mission. The FBI knew her face and were hunting her.

"Actually it is. Guess who called Bill yesterday, wondering why the asset he'd purchased hadn't delivered his prize yet? I'm here to make sure you weren't planning on screwing over yet another client." Jacob pressed his lips together in anger. He hadn't screwed over Reddington, Reddington had screwed him over. Jacob had done what he'd been asked, and protected Liz, and he'd continued to do so long after he'd stopped being paid for it. So what if he hadn't done it exactly in the way Reddington had hoped? The point was that Liz was alive and he'd do everything in his power to keep her that way. He needed to stall.

"How'd you find me?" As it happened it was a valid question. No one knew where and when they were meeting Volkov.

"Paid a visit to your friend in the wheelchair. With a little persuasion she was only too happy to part with information on your shelf corp. From there I traced the money until I found your safehouse." Ziggy. Jacob wasn't really close to the money-mover, but he liked her. She hadn't deserved to get caught up in his shit. To Jacob's shock, he felt anger on her behalf. Liz was really rubbing off on him.

"You bitch." Gina scowled, as though she was insulted, although they both knew very well she deserved to be called worse.

"Hey, I'm saving your ass. You should be thanking me. Now let's go. We need to deliver the Fed to Berlin." Was she serious? She certainly looked serious with her gun pointed at him. What did she think, that if she showed up and threatened him he'd fall back in line?

"Not happening." Gina's face grew colder, more distance than he'd ever seen it, at least when she looked at him.

"You're not getting this. I have orders directly from Bill. If you don't get back on board, I put you down. Do you really willing to die for this bitch?" Jacob thought back to all of Reddington's "warnings", Zamani and the rest. He thought of being interrogated in the Post Office, wondering whether or not he'd be caught and thrown into a hole for the rest of his life. He thought of Liz's learning the truth about him, treating him like her enemy. He'd had so many moments when he easily could have changed paths and saved himself a lot of pain. Even now in his best possible outcome, he would lose her, leaving her with Reddington while he vanished to slip on another meaningless mask. But that wasn't really the point was it? It wasn't about being with her, as much as he longed for that. It wasn't about what was best for him. It was about her. It was about if her life meant more to him than his own. And it did.

"Yes." Jacob watched Gina carefully and he could have sworn he saw a flicker of horrified disbelief behind her eyes, before they turned cold and hard.

"So be it." She aimed the gun at his head, and Jacob couldn't help thinking how strange it was that of all the people in the world who were his enemies, he was going to die at the hands of a friend. He stared into Gina's eyes willing her to remember everything they'd survived together.

"Stop. I'll go with you. But only if you let him go." Liz's words jerked him out his stare-down with his oldest friend.

"Liz, no!" Berlin would kill her, slowly, painfully, and methodically to maximize her, and therefore Reddington's, suffering.

"Why would I agree to that?" Was Gina's seriously entertaining this notion? Was she actually looking for an excuse not to kill him? If she hadn't been so eager to deliver Liz to her death, he might actually be moved.

"Because you can't kill me. Berlin needs me alive. You touch Tom and I swear to God I will put up a fight they likes of which you could not imagine and I will do it while screaming my head off." Jacob knew he should be grateful that she was willing to trade her life to save his. He wasn't. He was pissed and terrified.

"No!" He'd barely taken a step toward Gina before pain shot through his right leg and it crumpled under him.

"Tom!" Liz fell beside him immediately putting pressure on his wound, her face a mask of horror.

"Relax, he'll live. I needed to make sure he couldn't follow us. Now let's go before I change my mind." Liz hesitated for only a moment before for putting his hands where hers had been.

"Keep pressure," she reminded him unnecessarily, before kissing his cheek and standing. The thought flitted through his mind that this was the first time she'd willingly kissed him. HIM. Jacob. Not Tom. And it would in all likelihood be the last.

"Lizzie, don't. Please don't." He looked into her eyes and silently begged her not to throw her life away for him. Liz offered him a weak smile before turning her back and walking over to Gina.

"Gina, if you leave here with her I promise you will regret it." Truer words had never been spoken. The only question was if Gina would hear them.

"You'll thank me for this one day." Gina turned to Liz, a snarl turning her beautiful features ugly, "As for you, remember I might not be able to kill you, but I can kill anyone else on that street if you try anything." Liz nodded slowly, hatred for her captor burning in her eyes. Gina gestured with her gun and Liz began to walk, head held high to what she knew would be her doom, like God-damned Joan of Arc. This couldn't be happening. The second they were out of sight Jacob gritted his teeth and dragged himself to his feet. He hadn't made it more than a step before he heard the screaming. His heart stopped. Lizzie.

 **Author's note: Sorry for taking so long between updates, but I had the darnedest time trying to figure out exactly how Gina would crash the party and get the jump on both Liz and Jacob. Tune in next time to find out the reason behind the screaming!**


	5. Grief

Jacob felt as though he had a viewmaster glued to his face, with someone else pulling the lever to advance the slides. Images of the last few hours flipped through his mind's eye, with him powerless to stop it. Liz running back to him, alive, wonderfully, miraculously alive. He wished he could stop the slideshow there. He could remember the relief of that moment. That joy. Then came the next image: Volkov, still sitting in his convertible, shot on the head at the mouth of the alley. Their plan was ruined, undoubtedly by Gina. Gina. The final picture. Splayed out on the pavement, eyes open. A tiny hole in her temple, where the bullet had neatly entered at a high speed. Its exit hadn't been nearly so clean. Blood had surrounded her blonde hair like a crimson halo.

Everything after that moment was blurred. He had a vague recollection of Liz hauling him to the car and calling Reddington. Somehow they'd end up here in this warehouse. A woman had arrived shortly after to tend to his leg. When she offered him pain medications, he'd refused. He was already numb. She'd told him that he'd been lucky. The bullet was through and through, no bone, no where near the femoral artery. He'd recover quickly. Jacob wasn't surprised. Gina hadn't been trying to seriously hurt him. At least not physically.

"Jacob?" Liz's voice saying his name, his REAL name pulled him out of his stupor. He sat up, easing his legs off the cot and onto the floor.

"What?" His voice sounded befuddled to his own ears, as though he'd just woken up from sleeping. A part of him felt as though he was still dreaming.

"In the alley she called you 'Jacob'. Is that your real name?" He wasn't so foggy that he'd missed the cautious tone, or the way she'd avoided saying Gina's name. She was speaking to him the way he'd spoken to her after her father had died. It was the way you spoke to someone who'd just experienced a loss. That made him angry. He wasn't like other people. He didn't grieve. He didn't need to be coddled.

"Yeah. Jacob Phelps. Not that I use it very often." So few people knew his real name, and now there was one less. Damn-it, why the hell did his thoughts have to keep on circling back to that?! It was over. It was done. He needed to move on.

"I'm sorry." Liz either didn't hear or didn't care about the sharpness of his tone. She was looking at him with...pity. He couldn't take that. He didn't want it and definitely didn't deserve it.

"For what?" Inside his head he was begging Liz to drop it, to ignore her damn profiler instincts and leave the subject alone.

"Zanetakos. Gina. You clearly had...a history." Liz's obvious discomfort and awkwardness made Jacob suddenly aware that she probably didn't want to talk about this either. From her perspective Gina had been a terrorist, one who been in the process of delivering her to her death. Now she was doing her best to console Jacob for losing her. He doubted this was much easier for her than it was for him. He took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. All he had to do was convince her that he was fine and they could both move on from it.

"It wasn't what you think. She wasn't my girlfriend. I've never had those, not as me, not as Jacob. Never wanted one. It wasn't...romantic between us. I'm not heartbroken." That was the truth, with the exception of the 'never wanted one'' line. He'd wanted Liz, but this hardly seemed the conversation to bring that up. He and Gina had hooked up from time to time, because it was fun, and convenient.

Gina had come to visit him about three months into his mission with Liz, and he'd been grateful. The thing about protective detail was that there weren't really "off" hours. You went where they went, sleep when they slept, and you were always nearby. You couldn't take the evening off to pick up women in a bar. Gina had understood that and had visited him to help him take the edge off. They hadn't been lovers, just friends who screwed on occasion.

"Are you sure it wasn't for her? She did keep your picture by her bed. She also took the fall for you about the Angel Station hit." He knew about the Angel Station job, although technically she'd only covered for him. He hadn't killed Victor Folkin, he'd just agreed to help her dispose of the gun. Afterwards she'd made a pass at him, which he'd rebuffed and when she pushed he started suspecting there was more going on than post-mission hormones. It was the angriest he'd ever been with her before today. He'd kept the gun as insurance that she told whoever had sent her whatever he wanted them to hear.

As for doing him the "favor" of not revealing his involvement, that was Bud's protocol. You don't expose other operatives from the organization and definitely not the organization itself. You follow the rules and your escape was arranged, at your expense, of course. You don't and a very different kind of mission is planned.

Gina keeping his photo by her bed was unexpected. She wasn't sentimental about anything, or at least he hadn't thought so. Maybe he hadn't known her as well as he thought he had. Still, the idea that she might have been in love with him was absurd. Her actions proved that to be impossible.

"Why are we talking about this? She's dead. It doesn't matter anymore." Gina was gone and they had more pressing matters to worry about. Berlin was still out there and Jacob had run out of ways to get to him. He'd much rather focus on that problem than rehash the past.

"It does matter." Jacob felt the irritation rising up within him again. Why couldn't she understand that he wasn't like her? He wasn't like normal people. He didn't have the same reactions that they did to death. It was one of the things that had served him well in his profession.

"Why is that?" He didn't need to grieve. He didn't want to grieve. He wanted to stay comfortably numb, so he could deal the problems at hand.

"Because you just lost her and she meant something to you." Was Liz not going to be satisfied until he dissolved into a weeping puddle on the ground? Because that definitely wasn't happening.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Why wouldn't she just back off?! She didn't know Gina. She didn't know him. She didn't get it.

"Then tell me!" She was yelling at him now?! Seriously?! All the crap he'd been through and she was going to yell at him because he wasn't sharing enough?! Because she wasn't satisfied with the reaction she was getting from him?!

"Why?! What is the point of talking about how I knew her half my life?! How I was there when Bud took her off the streets! How we grew up together, agreed to have each other's backs! How she saved my life and I saved hers and now she's dead! My friend is dead!" Jacob suddenly realized he'd never called Gina that. Not to her face. Not to anyone out loud, until this moment. They'd always been taught that words like "friend" were lies. They were for marks, not agents. But he and Gina had been friends, not that either of them had been very good at it.

Jacob was horrified to find there were tears in his eyes. Not many, but a few. Liz had gotten him to cry after all. She didn't look particularly triumphant in her success. She politely averted her eyes while he efficiently rubbed away the evidence that, despite what his social service caseworker had said, he did have actual human emotions. Maybe she hadn't been wrong then, maybe he'd just changed. Maybe, in allowing himself to love Liz, Jacob had opened himself up to the whole unpleasant buffet of sentiment. It was a vaguely terrifying thought.

Liz sat on the cot beside him, and after a moment reached out and took his hand. The physical contact had an immediate effect. He felt warmer and safer. Comforted. Liz had been right. The numbness he'd felt seeing Gina's body, hadn't been detachment, it had been denial. Liz had seen the signs and had done her best to help him through it, only to be rewarded for her efforts by his screaming at her. And now she sat there holding his hand while he mourned her enemy. That was a gift he could never repay.

Jacob sat there for what felt like hours, forcing himself to remember Gina, from the scruffy street kid who reminded him of a feral kitten, to the hardened woman who'd prepared to put a bullet in his brain. Would she have done it, if Liz hadn't offered her an out? He supposed he would never know.

"Do you hate me?" Liz's soft words completely broke his chain of thought.

"What? No. Never. Why would you even say that?" Hate Liz? How could she think that after...everything.

"She's dead because of me." Jacob blinked. Was that really what she thought? That he blamed her for Gina's death? Even Liz had been the one to pull the trigger, Jacob wouldn't have blamed her for it. Gina had sought Liz out, not the other way around.

"Gina is dead because of Gina. She made her choice when she abducted you out of that alley. She was going to turn you over to Berlin. If I'd had the chance, I'd have killed her myself." Jacob meant every word. Gina had been his friend, but if she'd harmed Liz that would not have mattered.

"I think she thought she was helping you." Liz really could be intuitive about people sometimes. In Gina's mind he was sure that was exactly what she'd thought. It hadn't been true though.

"She was trying to force to become someone I'm not anymore, because it was what SHE wanted. She didn't really care about me. She couldn't. She didn't know how." It wasn't her fault really. For people like him and Gina, such things didn't come natural, and their early life certainly hadn't taught it to them. Jacob had been lucky. He'd found Liz. He'd experienced something Gina never had. It had been a slow process and he'd made plenty of mistakes, but ultimately he'd learned what it really meant to love someone.

"How do you know?" How could he explain in a way she'd understand?

"I hate Reddington. I really and truly hate him. He's made multiple attempts on my life, and endangered yours countless times." Just thinking about the fedora-wearing bastard made him want to hit something.

"Interesting segway." Liz's raised eyebrow needled him to continue his explanation.

"The point is as much as I hate him, as much as I think he is a danger to you, I haven't tried to kill him, because you would grieve. I wouldn't do that you because I...care about you. And that's how I know that Gina didn't care about me. She knew how I felt about you and she was still going to hurt you.

You were right, I am...sad that's she's dead, but given the circumstances it was either her or you and for me that doesn't even come close to being a choice." He wanted to look at her, but at the same time he didn't. Jacob was terrified as to what her reaction to his confession would be. Suddenly he felt his hand being lifted and he looked over in time to see Liz press a kiss to his knuckles. When she finished she looked over at him, and smiled.

"You should rest. Red's guys are guarding the perimeter and he will be here in an hour or two to plan our next moves." Jacob smiled at the word 'our', as those they were a team. He imagined Reddington would have something to say about that. Liz stood and his smile immediately fell away. She was leaving him. Liz had barely gone two steps before he called out her name.

"Yes?" A part of him was embarrassed. What was he, five, unable to last an hour without his security blanket? The larger part of him however had no pride, and just wanted the reassurance and calm Liz's presence brought him.

"Could you...Would you mind..." Unable to finished the sentence he patted the cot space next to him. It took about two seconds for Jacob to realize how that gesture might have been interpreted, setting him off on a spew of barely coherent apologies and clarifications. He felt like the biggest idiot who'd ever walked the face of the Earth, until something miraculous happened. Liz started to laugh. The sound stopped him mid-ramble. He'd forgotten how much he'd missed it. Liz's laughter was infectious and before he knew it, he was right there with her. His plans had gone to shit, his friend was gone, but he was here and Liz was here and somehow that made things alright. By the time they'd finished Liz was wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

"I'm worried I'll hurt you." He raised an eyebrow, thinking of the beating she'd given him only hours before, which sent them both of into fresh peals. Jacob was starting to wonder if someone was pumping happy gas into the warehouse. When they'd both calmed down again, Jacob fixed her with his most sincere gaze.

"If you did it would be worth it." Liz paused for only a second before approaching cot. He scooched over and lay on his left side. She settled in the space he'd made for her, Liz's back to his front. He carefully wrapped an arm around her, just as he'd used to for every night of their marriage. There was tension for about ten seconds, both of them re-acclimating to the physical intimacy.

The second Liz's muscles unclenched, Jacob's did as well. He hadn't realized until that moment how exhausted he was. It was as if weeks of not sleeping were catching up to at him all at once. His body had gone into high alert as if he'd been sleeping in enemy territory, and had only been able to take short efficient breaks. That was over now. Now he could rest. He was home.

 **Author's note: I know, I go over a week without updating and then I go twice in one day. The only explanation I can offer is that sometimes scenes are very easy for me to visualize (Jacob and Liz fighting) and sometimes they are very hard (How can Gina sneak up on Liz and Jacob? It's two against one for Pete's sake! Also Jacob is awesome at his job!). So...is Jacob too emotional about Gina? I mean I know he supposedly has "sociopathic tendencies", but he loves Liz, so clearly he's not without the capacity for affection. I decided finding Gina dead would be difficult for him to process, and Liz's "Wait we need to talk about this..." tendency would nudge him into confronting some truths about himself and that relationship. Hope you enjoyed and please review!**


	6. Cozy

"Well isn't this cozy?" Jacob's eyes popped open as his hand instinctively went for the gun that was no longer tucked in the back of his pants. He glared at the intruder currently blocking the door, wishing, not for the first time, that Liz wasn't so attached to the fedora-wearing bastard.

Liz shifted beneath his arm, indicating she wanted to sit up. Jacob reluctantly removed his arm, trying not to think about the fact he might never have the chance to hold her ever again.

"What's happening?" Liz swung her legs over the side of the cot and rose to feet. Jacob was idiotically pleased when she didn't immediate defect to Reddington's side of the room. She remained, feet planted by his cot. By him. Jacob knew he shouldn't read too much into it, but he couldn't help but feel warmed by the fact that neither Reddington's presence, nor his chilly disapproval had sent Liz scurrying away from him.

"I've finished cleaning up Tom's mess. Any physical evidence, including Tom's blood has been taken care of. The two of you were never there, at least as far as the task force is concerned." As much as Jacob resented Reddington's unsubtle dig, the truth behind it stung. What happened was his fault. He hadn't anticipated Bud sending someone to intervene, and that miscalculation would have gotten Liz killed if it hadn't been for Reddington's sniper. Liz had told him she hadn't made the shooter, so he'd probably found a perch on a rooftop across the street from the alley. It was what Jacob would have done.

"What about Berlin?" The mention of Jacob's employer snapped him back into focus. Berlin was too connected not know about Volkov's murder. He'd know Jacob had flipped on him.

"Vanished. No doubt he heard about the untimely demise of Volkov and correctly laid the blame at Tom's door. Any help Tom may have been able to offer as an inside man is off the table. He's completely useless to us now. I think it's time he returned to his handler." That hadn't taken long. It wasn't exactly surprising that Reddington wanted him gone. Hell, it might even be the best thing for Liz, given how badly he'd fucked up. Jacob honestly didn't know anymore.

"He can't go back. His handler wants him dead." Jacob's heart skipped a beat. Liz was trying to protect him. She cared if he lived or died. That knowledge considerably cushioned the blow that the man who'd raised him wanted him dead.

"I shouldn't have to remind you, Elizabeth, of the damaged he has inflicted. His safety is not our problem." Jacob had been in enough arguments with Liz to realise that Reddington's current tone was a mistake. Liz had only one response to what she perceived to be an attack, and that was to dig her heels in and come back at her opponent with everything she had.

"It's my problem! The only reason he's in trouble is because he was trying to protect me!" This was definitely one of the few high points of the past few weeks. If someone had told him three days ago he would be listening to Liz defend him, to take his side against Reddington, he would have called him insane.

"Not very effectively from what I understand. If it hadn't been for my associate you would be in Berlin's hands right now." Once again the uplifting feeling of being defended by Liz was crushed down by the knowledge that Reddington was right. If he couldn't protect Liz, then what was he good for?

"Zanetakos got the drop on both of us. It's just as much my fault as it was his and Tom was willing to die rather than turn me over. It was my choice to go with her." Reddington's face darkened instantaneously. He hadn't known until this moment about Liz's decision to protect Jacob as her own expense. Jacob knew that Liz had been trying to take the blame for what had happened, but she had unwittingly made things worse. In Reddington's eyes Jacob had become an even greater threat. He was a vulnerability to Liz, and through Liz, to Reddington. In this instance Jacob couldn't fault his logic. Liz had let Gina take her, exchanged her life for his. That could never be allowed to happen again. Jacob knew he should say something, but for once in his life he had no idea what.

"Tom get out. Elizabeth and I need to speak privately." Jacob glanced at Liz and a curt nod told him she would be fine without out him. It didn't surprise him. Liz had never been the type to back down, no matter who she was up against. It was one of the things he loved best about her.

"I'll be in the next room." Jacob concealed his limp the best he could as walked slowly over to the door. The last thing he wanted was to appear even remotely weak in front of Reddington. True the man had to have known Jacob had been shot, considering he'd been provided with medical care, but it was the principal of the thing.

Jacob passed Reddington, neither man acknowledging the other, as he walked through the open doorway. With his hand of the doorknob, he stopped and turned to Liz, offering her a small, uncertain smile. Liz's eyes softened for a moment as she returned it, before directing her gaze back to Reddington. Jacob did not envy the concierge the crime at that moment. He closed the door and left them to their argument.

"So you're the husband." Jacob spun, quicker than he should have considering his recent injury, to find the source of the voice. The speaker was tall with an athletic build. Dark wavy hair. British, if the accent was genuine. Handsome. The guy looked like he belonged in a magazine ad, selling cologne. Then again Jacob knew better than anyone that first impressions could be deceiving.

"What?" As the stranger approached, Jacob noted the deliberately casual posture, and the slightly arrogant air of a man who thinks of himself as a predator. To Jacob he smelled like former British Secret Service turned mercenary. Jacob had known a hundred just like him.

"Agent Keen's husband. The spy." So what was this guy's game? Was he trying to goad Jacob in some way? If so, then he'd have to do better than calling Jacob a spy. There were far uglier names that were equally true.

"Yep, that's me." Jacob could hear the muffled sounds of the argument in the next room. The door was more effective at blocking sound than he'd hoped, but he could still catch words such as "My life", "Liar", and "Father". He stared at metal obstacle that was blocking his view of a fight he really wanted to watch.

"So what's your secret?" Jacob reluctantly turned his attention back to the mercenary.

"Excuse me?" What was this guy's problem? And what was he doing lounging around the warehouse? As far as Jacob knew, Reddington's people did not get coffee breaks.

"She went back for you. In the alley. You married her for a job, lied to her for years, kidnapped her, and she still went back for you. You must have some serious game." Jacob allowed his face to fall into the cold, indifferent mask he used when dealing with hostile agents. The man was clearly trying to pick at him, but to what end? Who was he? He'd mentioned what happened in the alley and unless Liz had suddenly started confiding in total strangers, there was only one person he could be.

"You're the shooter?" The man straightened and crossed his arms, answering the question before the affirmation came out of his mouth.

"That's right. You have something you want to say about that?" Interesting question. How did Jacob feel about the man who'd killed his oldest, and if he was being truthful, only friend? Liz had asked if he blamed her for Gina's death and he'd said he didn't, which was true. What was also true was that Jacob loved Liz and would forgive her anything. The same didn't hold true for this man. Upon reflection, Jacob discovered he was a little angry, but mostly he was...grateful.

"Yeah. Thank you." If this man hadn't been there, Liz would have been tortured and likely killed. This stranger had saved her. That was a debt that Jacob could never repay. The shooter uncrossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes at Jacob. Apparently that hadn't been the response he'd expected.

"I thought the target was a friend of yours." The target. Gina. Jacob felt what he knew was an unfair prickle of resentment that the mercenary's use of the word "target". How many people had he called 'target'? How many times had Gina used the term? Still, Gina had been a person to him. She'd had a name.

"She was. But Liz is my wife." Which was really the point of this, wasn't it? That was the bottom line. He'd chosen to prioritize his relationship with Liz over the bonds he'd had with Gina and Bud. Even with Gina dead and Bud putting a price on his head, Jacob knew he hadn't chosen wrong.

The door opened behind him and well he turned he found himself face to face with Liz. He knew the angry, flushed look well. She's had definitely given Reddington both barrels. Jacob hoped the satisfaction he felt about that didn't show in expression.

"Reddington wants to talk to you. Alone."

 **Sorry for taking so long between updates! I'm looking to wrap this story up next chapter, which I can hopefully finish this weekend. I appreciate your patience!**


	7. Making Peace

Liz's expression was troubled, but Jacob wasn't certain why. He wished he hadn't been exiled from the room during the argument, because then at least he'd know what was wrong. Was Liz concerned Reddington was going to do something to him?

"It'll be fine. He's not going shoot me with you in the next room. On the off chance I'm wrong though, say bye to Hudson for me." Liz didn't smile at Jacob's admittedly weak joke, but instead reached out and touched his arm.

"Make the choice that's right for you." Before he could ask what she'd meant by that cryptic statement, Liz removed her hand and strode purposefully across the room toward the exit. Watching her retreating form caused a bubble of panic swell inside him. She was leaving him.

"Liz?" Liz halted her progress and turned back to him. The truth was he had no idea what he wanted to say, he just hadn't wanted her to go. He didn't know what Reddington had planned for him and for all he knew this could be the last time he'd ever see her. "Thanks." He hoped she understood that he meant for everything, not just defending him from Reddington. He wanted to say more, but he suddenly become acutely conscious of the sniper's eyes on him. Liz nodded, offered Jacob a small smile and then left the room. Jacob forced his gaze away from the door and over to sniper who continued to stare at him as though he were a museum exhibit. "Didn't your mother ever teach you about staring?"

The man smirked and headed toward the door Liz had just exited from. He glanced back over his shoulder. "It was...interesting meeting you, Keen." The man was gone before Jacob had a chance to respond. Jacob supposed that answered one of his questions about the sniper. The man was clearly following Liz. Reddington had hired her another bodyguard. A small part of him was jealous at being replaced by someone who could pass for a male model, but on the whole he was relieved. The sniper seemed competent and Liz needed the protection.

Tom exhaled. It was time to face Reddington. He reluctantly pushed the door open and was surprised to see Reddington lounging in a folding chair next to the cot. "Tom...What am I going to do with you?"

That was the million dollar question. "I thought you'd already decided to put me in the ground." Tom tried to ignore the growing pain in his leg as he stared down Reddington. The meds the doctor had given him were definitely starting to wear off.

"Though I'm certain that would be the best solution, Lizzie has been quite firm on the point of your survival. I am currently in the position of trying to work myself back into her good graces. She has stipulated that the first step toward reconciliation of any kind is making peace with you. With that in mind, won't you please sit. We have business to discuss." Jacob supposed that made sense. Reddington had been cultivating a personal relationship with Liz, and now that Liz was aware of his role in her father's death, and of his lies about Jacob, he would be trying to make amends. That worked in Jacob's favor. He cautiously approach the cot and sat, keeping his eyes on the older man.

"I don't like you, Tom."

"And there was me thinking the multiple assassination attempts were overtures of friendship." Reddington ignored the sarcasm and continued as though Jacob hadn't spoken.

"In fact it would be more accurate to say 'I loathe you.'" Finally, something they could both agree on.

"Why? Because I told her the truth about you?" Turnabout was fair play as far as Jacob was concerned. Reddington had burned Jacob and Jacob had burned him back. What goes around, comes around.

"No, because you broke your contract." It always came back to this. Jacob hadn't followed his instructions to the letter and Reddington didn't tolerate even the slightest amount of what he perceived as insubordination.

"The prime directive was to keep her safe and I did that and I kept doing it long after you stopped paying me to." Liz's safety was supposed to be the primary concern and Jacob had taken care of her. He'd saved her from Berlin's assassin, and prevented some stranger who didn't give a damn about her from getting close.

"You were supposed to maintain distance. Bill assured me that wouldn't be a problem. I was promised a professional, and instead I got you." Bill had been right, it shouldn't have been a problem. He'd had over a decade's worth of missions under his belt and nothing like this had ever occurred.

"And given your reputation you couldn't afford to be seen giving a pass to someone who'd slighted you on a business deal. I get it." Reddington surprised him by shaking his head and shooting Jacob a dark look.

"No, you don't. I hired you in an attempt to keep Elizabeth safe. I knew Elizabeth would be angry with me if she ever discovered what I'd done, but she wouldn't have been hurt by it. You changed that. You turned my violation of her privacy into a complete betrayal of her trust. You hurt her. I can't forgive that." There is was again, just like outside the hospital. Once again he couldn't help feeling the hypocrisy of the accusation. Reddington had hurt Liz the most. What right did he have to judge Jacob? On the other hand, Reddington wasn't wrong. Jacob had hurt Liz. The two of them going back and forth about who was most in the wrong wouldn't solve anything. Maybe Jacob should try to explain. It could hardly make things worse than they already were.

"When I got closer I was trying to help her. Liz feels things passionately, but she pushes her emotions down. She never let anyone see her rage or her pain. She hid it from her friends. She hid it from Nick. Strong feelings like that can explode in dangerous ways without an outlet. I thought she needed someone to talk to." Jacob remembered the night he'd decided to push the boundaries of his mission. Liz had had a terrible day at work. She'd failed to save the victim of a serial killer and the woman had died in her arms. She'd held it together at work, maintained professional distance to the extent her colleagues muttered her about being "one cold bitch".

When she'd arrived home, she'd greeted her boyfriend, smiled and listened to him complain about his day. She'd say she was going to shower, and once she'd turn on the water, she'd collapsed on the floor and sobbed for five minutes straight. When she'd finished, she'd wet her hair, thrown on a robe and returned to her boyfriend. He'd never suspected a thing. Jacob could remember being angry with Nick, for not seeing it. The man professed to love her and yet he didn't know her at all. Jacob had made the decision to get closer, to become Liz's confidant just so she'd had someone to talk to. He'd rationalized it using Liz's past pill overdose. Liz's emotional health could impact her physical health and it was his job to keep her safe. It was an excuse, but even he hadn't realised it at the time.

"Which conveniently ended up with the two of you in bed together." Reddington made it sound like he'd planned this all along, like he'd had a choice.

"I fell in love with her! I didn't mean to. I certainly didn't want to. I didn't even realise what was happening until it was too late. I know it doesn't excuse what I did, but I was trying to protect her. I would give anything to protect her." Reddington was silent a moment, studying him as though he was trying to find the answer to some unknown question.

"As I see it Tom, you have two options before you. The first, and my preference, is that I fake your death and set you up with a new life of your choosing far from your organization or Berlin's reach." Jacob blinked. It was a generous offer. Reddington's skill in this area didn't quite equal the Alchemist's but if rumors were true he was very good. Also expensive, so if Reddington was willing to waive the fee, and apparently he was, it was very big favor. Of course the unspoken part of the deal was that he'd never get to see Liz again.

"And the second option?" Reddington pressed his lips together. Clearly he'd hoped Jacob would jump at door number one.

"I hire you to be Elizabeth's security until this business with Berlin is resolved." Jacob resisted the urge to pinch himself. Never in a million years had he expected Reddington to offer him his job back.

"And Liz would be okay with this?" Jacob thought back to her last words to him. She'd asked him to make the choice that was best for him. What had she meant? Did she want him to stay? Did she want him to go?

"I insisted that she agree to some form of personal security, and she was reluctant to be followed and watched by a stranger. We came to an agreement that if you turned down the offer, she'd would accept whoever I hired. If we were to do this I would negotiate a new contract with your handler, but Berlin will still be an issue. The choice lies with you. Which will it be?"

Fight or flight, that was what was on the table. Flight would offer safety and a chance to leave this world of danger and lies far behind. His fantasy of a diving boat that he'd dwelled on before he'd met Liz could be his. Running was a habit of a lifetime and if he ran one last time, he might be able to have a real life. Start over. But he wouldn't have Liz. He'd have to live every day for the rest of life without her smile. He'd never hear her voice singing off key in the shower. He'd never hold her in arms again. If he stayed some of those things might still be true, but he'd have a chance, small though it maybe. That sliver of hope was enough.

"I'll stay." Reddington grimaced and stood.

"So be it. I'll tell Lizzie. You should rest that leg. The doctor informed me that with physical therapy you should make a full recovery in a few weeks. Ezra will watch over Elizabeth until then. And Tom, bare in mind, you're only alive because Elizabeth wishes it. If she should change her mind or anything happens to her..." Reddington finished the sentence with a wolfish smile, which Jacob returned in kind.

"Right back at you, Reddington." Reddington nodded his head in acknowledgement of the threat. They'd never like or trust each other, but now at least they did have an understanding. Jacob wasn't sure this was the kind of "peace" Liz had had in mind for the two of them, but under the circumstances it was the best either he or Reddington could manage. The three of them were in this together. Jacob could live with that.


	8. Enough

As Jacob stood before the front door of what used to be his house, he wondered if this wasn't a huge mistake. It had been a week since he'd last seen Liz. He'd spent the time in physical therapy and resisted the urge to call her. Liz deserved time to process everything, time away from him. Of course that hadn't stopped him from making routine check-in calls to Ezra, just to re-assure himself that she was safe. He could tell the sniper found his concern amusing, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

The townhouse was his second stop of the day. His first had been to Wing Yee's, to pick up some of their favorite takeout as a peace offering of sorts. He wasn't sure about how welcome he was going to be. Liz had protected him from Gina and Red, and she'd agreed to accept him as her bodyguard, but that had been a week ago. Since then she hadn't stopped by to see him, or called as far as he knew. She could have changed her mind about wanting him to stay. In fact she may have never wanted him here in the first place. She may have been hoping he'd take Reddington's offer to disappear. Maybe he should just go, give Liz the space she probably wanted.

Jacob was turning to leave when he heard loud and insistent barking through the door. Hudson had ratted him out. Jacob quickly weighed his options and decided knocking was probably a smarter choice than trying to run down the street carrying bags of Chinese on a still injured leg.

The front door opened and Hudson immediately sprung out and leapt up onto his shins.

"Hey buddy." Jacob shifted the bags of food into his right hand so he could bend down and pet the dog.

"I think he missed you." Jacob took a breath and chanced a look up at Liz who, he was relieved to see, was smiling at him.

"I missed him too." He'd missed all of it. He missed his dog, he missed teaching, and he even missed his glasses. "Can I come in?"

"It's your house too." They both knew that wasn't exactly true, but he appreciated the sentiment. Jacob followed Liz inside, his eyes observing the home he'd left in shambles. There were boxes scattered everywhere, and all the bookshelves and tables had been emptied of knicknacks.

"You're moving?" Jacob took his usual seat on the couch as he waited for her response.

"Tomorrow. Is that Wing Yee's?" Jacob nodded, allowing her to change the subject. It was surprisingly painful to know Liz was leaving their house behind. It felt like she was disowning any of the good memories they'd shared there. "I'll get the plates. Do you want wine?"

"Please." Liz disappeared into the kitchen and returned with the plates, wine glass, utensils, and a bottle of wine. Liz poured while Jacob dished the food onto both their plates. They ate in awkward silence for about a minute before Liz finally spoke.

"It's just, so much happened here-"

"I know. You don't owe me an explanation." Liz had every right to want to run from this place. Jacob couldn't deny the damage he'd done, not sitting thirty feet from where he'd held at gunpoint.

"No, I do. We can't go back. As happy as I was here, and I really was, we can't go back. We can't be Tom and Liz again. We can't be normal and boring." Jacob's heart sunk. Liz wasn't telling him anything he didn't know, but it still was hard to hear.

"Do you want me to go?" He kept his eyes glued to his wine glass and was surprise when Liz's fingers reached out and touched his.

"No. I said we can't go back, but I'd like to go forward. Or at least see if we can go forward." He raised his eyes to find hers were on his.

"Okay. How do we do that?" What did 'forward' mean?

"To start? I think by being honest." Honest. That could be tricky for him. Not only did it go against the habit of a lifetime, but there were things about him that Liz wouldn't like if she knew. Things she'd hate him for. Still, she was right, if this was going to work, there couldn't be any more lies between them.

"What do you want to know?"

"Why did you break your contract with Reddington?" He wasn't immediately sure how to respond. He'd broken the contract because he was in love with her, but when had that started? What had been the triggering incident, the moment he'd chosen to deviate from the parameters of his assignment?

"I saw you cry." He remembered sitting in his apartment, watching her on the monitors, huddled on the bathroom floor, weeping, with her hand across her mouth to muffle the sound. The image had stirred something in him, something he hadn't been able to identify.

"What?"

"It was when you were first hunting down the Good Samaritan Killer. I'd been watching you for about a year-"

"How closely were you watching me?" Liz's interjection stopped him mid-stream. Reddington had confessed that Jacob had been tasked with protecting her, but neither of them had yet to explain to Liz what that entailed.

"Liz, you have to understand that I was supposed to monitoring for physical and emotional well-being and given that I was only allowed limited direct contact-"

"How closely?!" Jacob sighed, embracing the fact he was about to catch a little heat for past actions.

"Audio and visual surveillance in both your living and work space."

"Tom!" Before Liz could continue was was sure to be a long and angry tirade, Jacob held up a finger.

"Jacob." He figured if he was going to be blasted for being honest about his past actions, the least Liz could do was yell at him using his real name.

"Excuse me?"

"If we are trying this 'forward' thing, maybe you should try to use my real name." Liz glared at him for a moment or two before giving a grudging nod.

"Fine. Jacob. So you illegally invaded my privacy by planting cameras and bugs in my apartment which I was sharing with my live-in boyfriend. Go on."

"You'd just come home from work and it had been a terrible day for you. One of the Samaritan's victims had died in your arms. Nick asked you how your day was and you said it was 'fine' and he believed you. He spent the next twenty minutes complaining about the people he worked with. You went into the bathroom turned on the shower, sunk down to the floor and cried. When you finished you went back out to him and he never knew. I was angry with him." Liz's eyebrows knitted together.

"Why? I was the one who was hiding things from Nick, not the other way around." It was true that Liz did bare some of the responsibility, but he understood why she acted the way she did. She hadn't wanted to burden Nick with her problems. Her instinct was to handle everything herself. Nick was her boyfriend, he should have known that about her. He should have recognised the signs and helped. That was his job.

"The man claimed to love you, Liz. If he had been paying attention, he would have known you were in pain. He would have seen it and done something about it. Any way, when he left for work and you went out to Wing Yee's later that night, I decided to meet you there. I told myself I'd just be an outlet, someone you could talk to if you needed to. After that things kind of snowballed." The truth was he hadn't understood what was happening until it was too late. Jacob blamed the fact that up until Liz, he didn't believe that love existed. He'd thought everyone else were exaggerating, pretending to feel something that didn't exist. He thought what people called "love" was lust combined with the predictable need to achieve the spouse, picket fence and 2.5 kids. He'd been like a colorblind man hearing other people talk about rainbows. It had been impossible to imagine, until the day he'd felt it for himself.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Jacob's mind returned to the present, and he saw that Liz was staring at the hatch in the floor. Her expression wasn't angry, just a little sad. He suspected she was thinking of the day she'd first found the box. What had that been like for her? He'd been in a coma and there she was holding evidence that he wasn't the man she thought she'd married.

"I thought about it. When I realised you found the box, I came close. But you came home and I saw your face and I...couldn't. You were looking at me like I was a stranger. You were afraid of me." He could see it in his mind's eyes: the hesitation in her movements, and the wariness in her eyes. It was like he was a wild, dangerous animal that had found its way into her home who might attack her at any minute.

"Do you blame me?"

"No. But I knew you wouldn't listen to me. You wouldn't have believed I was trying to protect you. You'd have called the FBI, and I would have run and I wouldn't have been able to keep you safe anymore." At least that's what he'd told himself. Maybe the real truth was that he just couldn't let go of the life he'd worked so hard to keep.

"I don't know what I would have done." There was truth in her voice, enough to make him wonder, 'what if?'. What if he'd told her, before Reddington had even shown up? What if he'd prepared her for the danger she'd be facing? What if, instead of working around Liz, they'd worked as a team. He supposed in a way he was about to find out.

"Has Reddington spoken to the taskforce yet?" Jacob knew the task force was under new leadership, until Assistant Director Cooper recovered. He didn't know much about the new boss, except that Reddington didn't like him. That seemed like a promising enough start.

"He got clearance from Agent Martin. Apparently there are some powerful higher-ups who want Berlin found and a second bodyguard is in Reddington's original agreement. You've gotten immunity for any Tom Keen-related crimes that they know of, but it would probably be better for everyone if Jolene Parker's body didn't turn up." So Liz knew, or at least suspected what happened to Jolene.

"It won't. Do you want me to explain?" Liz made a face and took a long sip of her wine. When she finished, she turned back to him.

"She was working for Berlin right?"

"Yes. She was sent to test my loyalty. I failed. When she turned up at our house that morning I suspected Berlin had ordered her to get close to you. Then Reddington tried to get his hands on her...Bottom-line she was a threat." Jacob studied Liz's expression, trying to get a read on what her thoughts might be, but he came up empty.

"So you killed her." Her tone intent, but neutral. Jacob had not idea what to make of it.

"Yes. And I'm not sorry that I did. She was a danger to you, and there is nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe." Well, if that wasn't honest enough, he didn't know what would be. Liz was right, if there was a way for them to move forward, he couldn't hide the parts of himself that were unpalatable to her.

Liz sipped her wine again, digesting what he'd told her. Finally she nodded to herself and changed the subject. "How did it go with your handler?"

"As well as could be expected. Bud's pissed, but regaining Reddington as client was a big incentive. I sweetened the deal by forking over all of my earnings from Berlin. He won't come after me." Regaining a client and a two million dollar bonus went a long way toward earning back tolerance apparently.

"That's good. How many more days until you're fully recovered?" Not few enough. He was pushing himself as hard as he could during PT, but some things couldn't be rushed. At least that was what his physical therapist had told him.

"About a week."

"Good. It's weird being followed around by a stranger." Jacob couldn't quite suppress a smug smile.

"Nice to know I don't count." Liz rolled her eyes at him in a manner so familiar that for a moment he felt like it was a year earlier. It was a nice feeling, however fleeting.

"Maybe you should, because I know next to nothing about you, but you've never felt like a stranger to me. Even after I found out that you weren't who you said you were, I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew you." Liz's confession warmed him from the inside out. One of the worst things about the mess he'd made was believing Liz no longer felt that connection that had been there since that night at Wing Yee's. Liz had always know more about him than she realised. She knew his moods, his fears. In many ways she knew him better than Bud did.

"Because you did. You do. I'm so sorry for ever making you doubt that." Jacob's gaze was pulled to the dining room, where he'd told Liz that she had been a job to him. He'd told her that he pitied her. The rush of shame and guilty was nearly unbearable.

Suddenly there were fingers on his cheek, gently turning him back to the woman he loved. "I'm sorry too." Her hand traced the curve of his face, hovering on the black and blue on his forehead. Jacob knew he should pull away. If he didn't stop her he was certain he'd do something stupid, something they would both regret. It was too soon. Reluctantly he caught her hand a with a quick kiss on her fingertips, released it.

"I should go." He tried very hard not to look at Liz as he dug his phone out of his pocket. His will power when it came to her wasn't exactly the strongest, and he was determined to do things right this time around.

"Where are you staying?"

"Motel, about twenty minutes from here." Jacob started dialling the number for a taxi service.

"Do you want me to drop you off?" Tempting as the offer was, being in a small confined space with Liz wasn't the best idea at the moment.

"No, I'll be fine." He held the phone to his ear. Each unanswered ring felt more and more like a sign he should just hang up and let the chips fall where they may.

"Do you want to stay?" Jacob barely registered the sound of the cab company's representative speaking into his ear. He disconnected the call without saying a word.

"Is that a trick question?" Liz looked more embarrassed than he'd seen her in years. Her cheeks were flushed and she didn't seem able to meet his eyes.

"This house has a lot of memories for both of us. I'd rather not spend my last night in it alone. So what do you say? Movie? Chinese? Wine?" A night in with Liz. It was one of the things he missed the most about their life together. It was simple, ordinary and yet it was intimate, have that with her again, even for just one more night... .

"You sure this doesn't count as 'going back'?" A part of him thought he was out of his mind not to just leap at the offer, but he needed to know what Liz really wanted.

"Not unless you start regaling me with tales of the infamous Billy Salter. So, Jacob, do you want to watch a movie with me?" She'd said his name, his real name, in such an affectionate tone, that he was pretty sure if she'd followed it by an invitation to eat crushed glass, he would have accepted it.

"Sounds perfect. Thanks." Liz smiled as he settled down next to her on the couch. They spent the next few hours watching bad tv, laughing, and talking about nonsense. Eventually Liz's eyes started to droop and before he knew it, she was asleep, her head resting on his shoulder.

Jacob wondered if Liz had any idea how much this night had meant to him. He knew he didn't deserve it. He was suddenly filled with determination to earn the trust that had been so generously placed in him, despite everything he'd done.

"I love you, Liz." Liz responded to his whispered words with a pleased mummer and snuggled closer until her head was against his chest. Jacob smiled. It was enough. It was so much more than enough.

 **This was the final chapter (for real this time). Apologies for the many typos! I blame the writing gremlins who sneak into perfectly polished drafts and eat words and punctuation. I hope to be starting a couple new Keen2 stories story soon, so if you're interested check back in about a week. Thanks for sticking with the story!**

 **-Evey Edge**


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